What one doesn't know
by ninehundredtwo
Summary: Victor Nikiforov, Sebastian Michaelis, Osamu Dazai, Yuri Katsuki, Puri Puri Prisoner, Death Note's L, are in the middle of an issue. Together, they try to solve the problem that is presented in front of them. How are they related? What adventures might await them? Read this (probably) 5 part story to find out!
1. Chapter 1

A/N This story is rated T. I hope that everyone understands that this is purely my imagination, and that if you are uncomfortable with murder, you should probably leave now. This story will probably have 5 parts, and today I am uploading the first part. I know it's been a while since I've done something other than a one-shot, but I hope that you'll love it as much as I do. I've even been caught writing in public. Something I've not done for years. Anyways, on with the story. As always, message me, leave reviews and come to me if you have suggestions for new stories!

St Petersburg, Russia. 5 A.M.

Our story begins on a rainy day, in a small apartment in St. Petersburg, Russia. On this morning in April, a ray of light caressed one of the sleeping figures on the queen-sized bed. As Victor looked at the sleeping figure next to him, he smiled to himself. Usually, he would sleep like a starfish, reducing his partner to a cute, but a curled-up ball. He pulled his partner into a hug, and whispered something into his ear, waiting for him to stir as well. From the outside, they could hear raindrops hit the pavement.

A few months ago, Victor had chosen the ideal apartment. His 1930's Russian-style home was situated far from Moscow and its tight controls. It featured a small kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath. The bath had been a special request from Victor, as he knew that Yuri loved them, having grown up in an inn.

'Come on Yuri, it's time to wake up' he mumbled, more insistent this time. He smelled Yuri's hair, eliciting a soft, protesting moan. 'I'm heading out with Makkachin, but don't forget we are going to go to the ice rink later.' These were the two magic words. As soon as Yuri Katsuki registered the words 'ice' and 'rink' he decided that today would be a good day. He waited for Victor to take his shower, so he could hop in after him. As Yuri assembled his outfit, he realized he hadn't said good morning to his husband yet.

Even though the rules about marriage in Russia stated, that they would be friends forever, in this apartment, as far as they were concerned, they were anything but. Even though they didn't have much, they still had each other. After his shower, Victor did his hair and brushed his teeth. He shot himself a killer smile, before peeking outside and finding out that the rain was coming down hard today. Makkachin had woken up as well, and as usual, the poodle was waiting by the door, the leash hanging from his mouth. 'Yuri, I'm heading out!' Victor yelled, right before he closed the door.

For a second or two, Yuri stood in the shower. He held his arms next to his body, as the warm water cascaded over him. He was reminded of his last Grand Prix, and how he and Victor had decided to take a month off. He let out a soft moan, as the water warmed his shoulders and chest muscles. The apartment complex lacked an elevator. Which meant, that he and Victor had to carry their groceries up to the third floor. He didn't like walking up, but he loved that Victor would share the burden with him as they walked up the stairs together. After the thoughts of Victor passed, he felt or heard nothing for a few minutes. It felt like his body was empty of feeling, somehow unsure, but still searching for something. Yuri truly hoped that Victor wouldn't get bored with him. In fact, before they got together, he had idolized the man. Some days he felt incredibly grateful, and some days he was really anxious. He guessed that today he'd have to man up and show Victor that he was worthy of being his partner. As he got out of the shower, he realized that it was his turn to make breakfast. Victor and Makkachin were nowhere to be found, which meant that he had around 20 minutes to create their breakfast.

Winter in St. Petersburg reminded Victor of Japan. Even though he had been raised in Russia, to him, there wasn't much of a difference between the countries. He was pleased with the current apartment he shared with his husband. Even though the government had decided that homosexuality as a mental illness in 2013, he had decided not to care. Victor really loved the style of houses that had been built in 1935, the ones that were built during a later period just didn't make him feel at home as much. Makkachin had stopped to sniff something on the street, allowing his owner an opportunity to look around. He could see the Neva river from where he stood, and if he didn't have to train today, he would probably have bought himself a cup of coffee and sat near the water. He loved not having to coach or train, this past month had been somewhat of a dream. Ever since Victor was introduced to the ice rink at 14, he never looked back. Even though he had received Makkachin as a present from Simon, his protector, he had been obsessed with ice, ice-skating rinks and becoming the best version of himself. Due to the weather, very few people were outside today. It allowed Victor to really see the architecture and shops that were scattered around his current neighborhood. 'Maybe I'll bring Yuri out for a date sometime,'he said, looking at Makkachin. In response, Makkachin looked away, as if to say, 'I'm not good enough for you anymore?'.

Today was the day that he would return to the ice rink. In a way, Victor was incredibly excited. He knew that Yuri would love watching him for hours on end, as he would attempt to improve upon his decided routine. That and Yuri would be forever surprised at everything he did. 'I spaced out there, didn't I. Makkachin?' Victor said, smiling at himself as his poodle looked up at him once more. 'Let's head home, I'm sure that Yuri will be worried by now'. As expected, Yuri had been reheating miso soup, they had both agreed that there would be a stop to having katsudon as long as Victor hadn't won the oncoming championship. Yuri hadn't noticed that Victor had already returned, as he was currently busying himself with trying to boil an egg and trying to get some of his other foods out of the refrigerator. 'I can't believe Mum sent us this much. We lasted forever with the food she made', he mumbled to himself. 'Good morning Yuri', Victor said, as he cuddled his husband from behind 'Did you sleep well? Thank you for making breakfast.' He could feel the muscles tense, as Yuri clearly hadn't expected him back yet.

'A-ah Anytime. C-can you please stop biting my ear?'

'Only if you stop being so cute.'

'We've got to go soon-,' at that, Victor snaked his arm around Yuri as he held him really close. 'I'm sure the rink won't mind if we are five minutes late'.

For the occasion, Yuri had decided to dress down. He wanted all of the attention to be focused on Victor, as he had no idea what kind of crowd could possibly turn up at his return. Last year, Victor had made quite a show out of telling everyone he did not intend to come back to skating, displeasing a lot of his fans. Today, they had decided to bring Makkachin. They had already obtained permission from the woman who operated the rink, and just like in Japan, she didn't mind opening up earlier if that meant that she could watch Victor train. Victor placed himself behind the wheel, as Yuri loaded Makkachin into his bench in the truck. 'I can't wait to see this' Yuri said, as he petted Makkachin once more. The trip to the ice-rink wasn't that long, and Yuri could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing Victor skate again. He loved it more than he could explain. In the meantime, they had finally arrived at the ice-rink. Victor had been adamant about not coming there, as he believed it would draw him in and make sure that he didn't spend the remaining vacation time with Yuri. As Victor went in to say hello to Lidiya, Yuri started feeling lost. What if there was a major welcoming committee waiting for them? He couldn't blame Lidiya, as it would be a good opportunity to promote the ice-rink as being the place for Victor's comeback, but Yuri thought about himself. What would it mean if he was drowned out by the crowd again? The entrance seemed quite quiet, but as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was confronted with Yakov, Victor's old trainer. 'So you finally made him get his act together?' he asked, not in a confrontational way, but more paternal, as if he had known all along. At that time, Yuri's phone started buzzing. A Twitter notification from Yuri Plisetsky, announcing his arrival at the ice-rink. 'This is going to be a very long day,' Yuri said, accepting that his dream of watching Victor practice by himself, was not due to come true today. 'I'm sorry. As soon as Lidiya called with the news, I had to come in and see it for myself, I hope you're okay with it, Yuri' Yakov said, finally realizing what had been set in motion after receiving the news of Victor's return. 'A-ah no, its quite alright' he replied 'he was your pupil after all. It would be weird for you not to come!' With that, they shook hands and parted ways. At that time, Yuri was having mild flashbacks to the first grand prix hed lost. He had grown so much over the past year, but the arrival of Plisetsky kind of threw him off. He headed for the bathrooms, only then deciding that if Yuri found him there again, he would conclude that the hunt for Victor would be reopened. He didn't want to give him that type of satisfaction, so instead, he proceeded to head for the athlete's preparation rooms.

In his confusion, Yuri had opened the wrong door. What he saw was hard to describe. A man had been murdered, that much was clear. But, his body had been left in a weird position as well. The bench had been drenched in blood, as the man's wrist showed some weird tattoo. The only reason Yuri managed to see it, was because his wrist had been attached to some police-issued handcuffs which had been attached to one of the athlete's lockers. Before Yuri had to leave to vomit, he managed to call out for help, since he wasn't sure if there would be any chance of saving this man. he was simply too scared to go even closer than he had already been when he carelessly walked in. Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived and proceeded to question Yuri. He was lucky he hadn't touched anything but the door, so he was quickly released as a suspect. What he did not expect, was how calm Victor managed to take in all of the information. It was almost like he had experienced something similar back when he was younger. He simply held Yuri until he stopped crying, and told him that he needed to make a few calls.

Happily unaware of his impending trip, Osamu Dazai just sat down at the bar in his favorite restaurant. He had just come back from a long day at work, and Dazai was looking forward to having those Tsugaru noodles with baby bamboo. Atsushi, his new recruit, had morphed into a tiger. In the middle of one of the busiest markets in the city. He understood Atsushi's motivation to do what was right, but he also refused to use 'no longer human' because, frankly, it had been so much fun to watch. Needless to say, it had been the best opportunity for his partner, Kunikida to give him another speech, right in front of the new recruits. 'I just wanted the kid to have some fun' he mumbled, waiting for his order. He could still hear his ears ring a little bit, remembering how Kunikida would go on and on about 'morality, decency and traumatized grandmothers'.

Just as he was about to tuck into his Tsugaru noodles with baby bamboo, he received a call from Victor Nikiforov. 'Vic, long time no see my friend. What brings you to call me at this hour?' Dazai said, holding the phone slightly away from his face. 'Good evening old friend, if time permits, I would like to report a code 187. I don't think there's anyone else I can call at this point. I really need you here, I don't trust anyone else.' For a few seconds, Dazai contemplated. Russia was cold. Where would he sleep? Would this mean another speech by Kunikida? 'I'll be there on the next flight out.'


	2. Chapter 2

As a child, Osamu Dazai never wondered what he would be when he grew up. Like his father, he dreamt of having an extended network of friends. Like his father, he wanted to be big and strong. He wanted to be fluent in multiple languages. For the longest time, Dazai watched as his father left the house at 6 A.M. sharp. Every day. He waited for the sounds of the car to fade out, before getting out of bed. At age 11, his father had taken him to work for one day. He always wondered about the job his father had, but he had been too scared to ask. His father had been quite a strong presence. On that day, Dazai met Victor. Victor's parents had been diplomats, but their son had felt like a breath of fresh air. In the brief period they spent together, they became fast friends, even to the point of exchanging addresses after just a few hours. His parents were unable to make it that day, but Simon, Victor's guardian had been summoned to talk to my father.

Leaving us behind, both men retreated to my father's office to talk business. I believe the exact term my father used, was to 'go over the contract once more.' My father did not own a briefcase. During my childhood, I had never seen him with one either. And that had not bothered me, not until this exact moment where he mentioned it. What I knew, was that I loved my father. I loved spending time with him when he came home. But today, I truly wondered about what my dad did for a living. If Victor asked me that question later today, I was not sure how I should respond. I also wondered what my dad traded in, but Victor interrupted my thoughts. Instead, he suggested that we would go through Simon's belongings since he was in a meeting.

Victor and I were curious about Simon's possessions. What would a tall, broad, African-American man possibly bring to Russia? Dazai and Victor were mostly interested, in the black duffel bag underneath Simon's bed. It's contents? A wire, knives and a katana. Victor whistled as he proceeded to take the sword out of its sheath. 'Who knew?' he said, shrugging at Dazai. 'Simon's always telling me not to fight. That fighting isn't good.' Victor said, joyful as ever. The selection of knives seemed well-maintained. Probably the sharpest knives I'd ever seen in my life. Dazai was concerned, that he'd never assumed his father to be an arms dealer. They had no weapons in the house, nor did his father have them in his office.

At that exact moment, Simon caught us with the bag. He was put off by our curiosity, but, he did not hurt us physically. On that day, Victor gained another after all the trophies, the T.V. shows, and the fame, he still called to ask how life was. Or, Victor would announce that he was coming to Japan. Not in his wildest dreams, had Dazai assumed that Victor would ever call to report a 187. Instead of committing murder, the Detective Agency Dazai worked for, was all about prevention. At 15, Dazai officially became a part of the Port Mafia in Japan. To this day, he maintained contact with his underlings.

Osamu knew that he had to call his partner. He'd been thinking about it all through his dinner. His current partner, Kunikida, is nothing like him. Doppo Kunikida is stuck up, he loves rules, and he hates to work with Dazai. It wasn't personal, it was just that they were not the same. Dazai sighed, he'd have to call. It'd be really impolite not to.

'Kunikida residence, how may I help you?'.

'It's Dazai, is Doppo-kun present?' After a brief silence, he could hear someone approaching the phone. 'It's unusual for you to call after work. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?'. For a second, Osamu Dazai was not sure what he would have to say to make this right. He knew that Kunikida would keep on asking questions unless he fed him some information. 'To be honest, there is a family emergency. And I might need to take the next two weeks off'. In the silence that was left, he could hear Kunikida thinking. 'This isn't about the thing from earlier today, is it? The kids had their fun, and you are still my partner.' he said. 'Did you really think that one of your lectures, would suffice to keep me from working? Do I need to remind you of my previous job?' He heard Kunikida chuckle on the other side of the line. 'No, I think you're right. I wish you good luck, call me if you need anything, alright partner?' At that, Dazai nodded. Without having to reply, the line disconnected. Since Osamu had been in Kyoto for the longest while, he looked outside the inn he was at. He truly loved those Tsugaru noodles. He loved them to bits. They reminded him of his mother's cooking.

From here, Dazai could see the Kiyomizu-Dera. Even though he was always 'too busy' to visit the temple, today he would. Prior to leaving the inn, he requested a clean, empty bottle from the innkeeper. Dazai felt a great need to protect his friend. And with a holy spring this nearby, he was not going to take chances. It would be insane not to think about it. Victor was one of the few entities in his life, that he would describe as being "pure". Victor also had his way of charming people, Osamu could do the same, as long as he was on the job. It was not a skill he could pull off, not with people who actually knew him. Meanwhile, it was starting to get dark outside. Dazai paid his bill and started walking uphill, as fast as he possibly could. Time was of the essence at this point. He made his way through the gates, heading for the main hall, mentally cursing himself for not having brought another bottle. The water of the Otowa-no-taki spring was a source of health and a long life. And he had only managed to bring one bottle. 'I am such an idiot,' he muttered to himself. 'For years on end, I've been telling myself that I do not have time for this. That there'll be a 'next time'. But right now, right now I've only got this one bottle.' Upon reaching his temporary home, Dazai thought of something. He could split the contents of the bottle into two smaller bottles. Genious. But then he wondered, what would happen to the water? The water had been obtained for Victor, his friend. Did that mean that something bad would happen to him if he drank a part of the water for himself?. Tonight, he would just park those thoughts somewhere else. 'Dazai, you've really been living on your own for too long. It shows,' he mumbled. He sat down in his old-style Kyoto room. The first thing he did, was to lay out his blanket and his suitcase, momentarily forgetting about the bottle he had set on his table. He did not believe in buying things through his phone, so he fired up his laptop and booked a flight. 'I've got to be at Osaka international at 10 A.M. tomorrow,' he exclaimed, realizing that he would need to get himself a taxi as well. Osamu realized that he would be sleep-deprived as he arrived in Russia. To pass the time, he started to rehearse what he would say to his friend. 'It's been a while, Victor, I am sorry we are meeting under such uncommon circumstances' he'd say. Or not. As he tossed his toothbrush and a few changes of clothes in his suitcase, he started to calm down a little bit. He was going to help his friend. That was everything he could do right now. He watched as the digital clock on his old television set hit 4 A.M. and then 4.30, suddenly realizing that he needed to sleep soon. At 6 am, he got on the blanket he had sprawled out after he came home and decided, that this was all the sleep he was going to get. As a finishing touch, he tossed his laptop into his carry-on luggage. He hated that thing, but he also needed it for work. He locked the house, after checking his attic window, and the locks on his shed. Upon arrival in Kyoto, he had wanted a modern-style house. But, he had to admit, that after this case he would have a special place in his heart for his current house. Twenty minutes later, Dazai's taxi arrived. The belt of his trenchcoat got stuck caught by the door and ripped. Osamu had to re-open the door and realized that he needed to buy a new coat as well. At any cost, he did not want to seem shabby in front of his old friend. Dazai had one of the smoothest rides to the airport. Since he was leaving during the week, the lines were non-existent. Dazai found himself being less stressed, and even toying with the idea of booking vacations during the week. He did not have a partner, or children to bother with, so he could leave whenever he wanted to. The food that they served on his plane ride, was not too bad. But it did not stop him from vomiting upon arrival.

As expected, Sergey and his tall friend had come to pick him up. The tall, blonde Russian wore a suit, and his piercing blue eyes made many women at the airport swoon that day. Some of them were adorable, they bumped into each other as they passed by. 'Hi, Sergey' Dazai greeted. 'Good afternoon Mr. Dazai,' Sergey replied, polite as ever. 'Victor couldn't make it at this time, but he sends you his regards'. 'That's quite alright' Dazai said, mildly irritated. He had just spent 16 hours on a plane, and if he was being really honest with himself, he would have wanted to see Victor. What happened to manners and courtesy? He sighed and looked back at Sergey since his partner was not planning on talking. 'So you've brought a new friend today?' he asked, smiling. It wasn't Sergey's fault. He knew that. But somewhere, it still stung.


	3. Chapter 3

Dazai did not exactly love Kazan international airport. He loved it when Victor sent him tickets to his competitions though. There were so many women with trolleys. Small women with hats, and tall women with small children. He managed to spot businessmen with at least two or three guards, and people who came to pick up their family member/coworker/new pet. Dazai even spotted an Arab prince, characterized by the guards in white suits. He also spotted a group of four timid women, all wearing a hijab. Eventually, he even bumped into a woman wearing a saree, which yielded an unfriendly stare from her husband. There was just so much noise, after the long flight the only thing he could think of was sleep.

With all of the noise and lack of sleep; Dazai finally realized that he had not turned his attention to Sergey's companion. If he had to compare them, Sergey kind of felt like a warm blanket, whereas the new guy kind of felt like a cold bath. Sergey was muscular, tall, blonde, with those very light blue eyes. He just felt dependable. By contrast, his partner was slightly taller, broadly built and the fact that he kept on slouching did not score him any points either. (Other than the fact that he had not spoken a word since Dazai's arrival). Osamu gave Sergey the side-eye, signaling for him to introduce his partner. 'I'm so sorry Mr. Dazai. This is Jay Riedel. He's my trainee, which is why I brought him along today.' Riedel responded by giving him a curt nod and scouting the airport. At the very least, he was trying.

By now, it became apparent that Jay was feeling flustered. Dazai studied his outfit and his body shape, before looking away. He had been courteous enough not to meet his eyes. Riedel still had that fresh smell, he was probably on one of his first assignments. Dazai calmly exhaled. Victor was probably stressed, which is why he might have made the mistake of sending out a rookie. It probably hadn't come to mind, that this would be a problem for Dazai. Neither Jay or Sergey seemed to be in a rush. The international airport was quite large too. It took them a small train ride, and another 20 minutes walking to make it outside. It had been cold inside the airport, and Osamu was happy to be greeted with the warmth from outside. Riedel had been sent out to get the car, giving Sergey and Dazai some time alone. For the occasion, they had found a small bench near the taxi stands, where they waited for the car. Sergey had put Dazai's bags next to him, in case they needed to make a run for it. In front of them, people were getting in and out of cars, and for some reason, it finally dawned on Osamu that he would be seeing his friend later today.

'Did you bring Jay Riedel by special request?' Dazai inquired. 'No Sir. I just want him to learn the ropes as soon as possible. His face is not well-known, which, in our case might be an asset. I was merely doing what felt right, I'm sorry if I have offended you' Sergey concluded; his eyes glued to a blue sedan. Dazai had really forgotten how deep, and convincing Sergey Dongel's voice could be if he wanted it to. 'No not at all, I was just wondering about the importance of my safety in Russia. It does feel good now that I am back though. If I'm being honest, I was expecting Maximillian.' And with that, they concluded their conversation. Jay had brought the car around, and the ride to the hotel was a smooth one. Dazai enjoyed a small glass of red wine, as he noticed that it had started to drizzle. He loved watching the way the water softly caressed the car, as he was left to his own thoughts. Sergey was right, he should be giving Riedel a chance. For his occasion, Dongel had remembered to put on Mozart, it really helped Dazai to calm his nerves. With such calming music being played, there was no way he could be on edge.

The hotel was located in a prime spot near the ice-rink. Riedel assured him that it would only take ten minutes by car. And somehow, Dazai felt like he had to give him a chance. People had to start somewhere. The main hall had been decorated in the early 1900's, but Dazai felt at home. He loved the red rug with the golden borders, which he found sprawled on the stairs. Not to mention the golden decorations on the chandeliers. This is how hotels should feel. To Dazai, the old and dependable made him feel like he was home. While Jay and Sergey checked him in, he could admire the wooden desk that still sported the original family logo of the Russian family that used to live there. Those three two-tier chandeliers really made him feel like he was making a grand entrance, and for a while, he forgot about his broken belt.

Upon entering his room, he found out that Victor had sent him a text. In the text, he apologized for not making it to the airport. And for reporting the 187, and for making him come to Russia. It was really hard to be mad at him after that. Dazai loved his room, it felt comforting just to be there, save for the two men who were currently guarding the door. The previous owner had to be quite the intellectual, Dazai mused. The wall facing the door doubled as a bookshelf. Osamu didn't mind. He loved books. On the other side of the room, he could watch what was going on on the other side of the street, and the Neva river. The guards had been kind enough to leave him a Russian newspaper allowing Dazai to finally read up on the 187 that Victor made him come to Russia for. His Russian was not perfect, but he didn't feel free enough with Riedel around to ask Sergey for the details. Instead, he sat down on the comfortable red velvet couch that faced the river. This way, he could calm his thoughts and not be confronted with the guards. From what he could read, the man had been discovered at the ice rink. By the time he was found, he had already passed away, and the man had been shackled to the lockers. The killer was probably trying to send a message. Since it had been a little over 24 hours by now, he might have the chance to see the crime scene for himself. He knew he had to act fast. Dazai got up and walked over to the window, as he saw the sun was slowly starting to set, a plan formed. He unclasped his hands from behind his back, a habit that he had developed at the port. It did make him wonder, why was Victor was so intent on having him see the dead body?

As expected, Victor called a little after that. Dazai heard Makkachin in the background, whining for attention. 'Friend,' Victor said, sounding kind of deflated. 'I currently have a situation to deal with. Would it be possible to meet up for dinner later?' With Riedel and Sergey here, it would be impossible to refuse. 'No, of course not. I will meet you there.' Dazai concluded. Victor also knew that Dazai was in no position to refuse, not after coming all this way. 'I'd really like to see you. I need it today.' Victor sighed. 'I'll be there after a short nap. The airplane had a lot of turbulence. I trust that Sergey will be taking me there?' Dazai asked. 'Without question' Victor answered, sounding more resolved than he had when he called.

'Okay men,' Dazai said as he hung up 'it's time for you to head outside, I am going to have a quick nap.' Without making a sound, the door closed. He did not need to look behind him to know that they had left. He realized, that a part of him had been holding his breath the entire time. Dazai closed his eyes and allowed his lungs to fill up with air, afterward he breathed out slowly, feeling the tension slowly leave his body. From the bedroom, he retrieved the luxurious red-colored blanket, which he then proceeded to drape over the couch. It was the best of both worlds. As soon as his head hit the red velvet, he was gone.

Across town, Victor was still in the process of calming his partner down. Yuri had decided, to latch onto Victor's right leg. Yesterday's events had just made him more anxious about life in general. 'I haven't seen him in 3 years, Yuri.' Victor said, trying to detach himself from the entire situation. 'Yuri. I love you. That's not going to change.' Yuri still refused to let go, as he aimed his tear-stained face at Victor. 'You can't leave me. I'm not safe. What if he comes after me when you're gone? Why are you not worried about me?' Victor dutifully closed his heart. He knew that Dazai had probably had a very long day and that Yuri's current emotional state, would be detrimental to their friendship. Especially because this would be the first time, that Dazai and Yuri met. The key to their apartment was the only thing he really felt right now. The cold metal was pressing into his left hand, annoying him even further. If he wanted to leave now, he had to be sly about it. 'Why can't I come too?' Yuri asked, tightening his grip on Victor's leg. 'We have some business-related things to talk about. I won't be long. Grab Makkachin and watch The Notebook. You like that movie, right? It'll be over before you know'. Victor paused, trying to figure out if the strategy had worked. He didn't want to keep Dazai waiting for long. 'Okay.' Yuri concluded, wiping his face with a tissue he had grabbed from the table. 'I probably won't be able to call or text for a while, but I'll try to come back as soon as possible.' Victor hated to lie like this, they would probably be out until very late. Sadly, this was the only way that guaranteed that Yuri would not be crying as he walked out the door. Makkachin laid his head down on Yuri's lap, comforting his master. Victor kissed Yuri on the cheek and headed out. Yuri had realized that today he would not win. Victor needed to leave. The only thing that Yuri did know, was that the man that he was meeting was a detective. But was that enough? Did he need to worry about this meeting? Yuri unwillingly smiled as Makkachin brought him his ball. 'At least I've still got you', he muttered.

A little after 6 P.M., Sergey knocked on Dazai's door. The mahogany door echoed the knock for a little longer than Dazai would have wanted. He groaned and refused to respond. A muffled 'Sir? Are you ready to leave?' could be heard from the outside. 'Sergey, go away.' Dazai said, pulling his comfortable blanket over his ears, to buy more time. A few minutes later, he heard the lock click open. 'I had to get the master key, are you decent?' Sergey asked cautiously. Dazai had been sleeping comfortably, using the extra time he bought by not opening the door. His left arm touched the floor, whereas his right arm was holding on to his pillow. His mouth was half-open and he seemed like he really needed a kick-start. 'Sir, I have brought you a new trench coat, I hope the brand and quality are up to your standard'. With that, Dazai had to come into action. 'How long do we have' he moaned. 'Fifteen minutes Sir,' Sergey responded.


	4. Chapter 4

Jake Zhou had his life together, he had moved to Australia to become a dancer, and he was slowly but steadily heading towards his dream. At 4:30 A.M. Australia was a dark place, but Jake loved living near the beach. There were a lot of hot girls and a lot of bars and cafés he could either relax or work at. Living in Australia had given him a slight tan, and girls loved to comment on the way it complimented his entire style. The only thing he really wore, were Hawaiian shirts and shorts, and no one really seemed to care a lot. The only thing Jake had to do at this time, was to make sure he was at the Sakura dance studio by 5:15, so he could be at the cafe at 10 A.M. for his morning shift. For a few minutes, he closed his eyes and did some breathing exercises, while listening to the sound of the waves hitting the shore. This sure beat his old apartment. The dance competition he was currently training for, was in 3 weeks, and he hadn't been as religious about his training, as he should have been.

His sister, a certified nutritionist, had made him a custom regimen in order to keep his stamina up. He hated the green smoothies and the vegetables, but he knew that if he wanted to own that trophy, he had to eat what she told him to. Brigitte had sent him an e-mail earlier that week, with a list of foods that would make him look more athletic. Before the competition, he had struggled with his eating pattern. He loved eating pizza and red meat, but he had no information on how to change his food intake. Eventually, he caved and asked Brigitte for advice. As organized as she was, she would send him a grocery list on Monday; and tell him what to eat and how to prepare it. Today, he'd be eating something called squash steaks with miso dressing. The only things missing from the recipe were the red cabbage and zucchini. Jake sighed as he looked inside his refrigerator once more. Australia wasn't exactly known for its fine selection of cabbages, but he'd have to make do. He got up and started looking for his worn-down gym bag. He thanked himself quietly, for having packed the night before. His apartment only featured two rooms, and at 28 he had never brought a girl home. His father had outlived his mother, and they mostly talked over Skype. The job at the cafe didn't pay him enough to warrant visits to his family. He hadn't been on holiday in years, but somehow he wasn't bothered. He loved to dance. While he danced, it seemed like nothing else mattered. Right now he was all about the current competition and determined to bring at least one trophy home. After he got out of the shower, he tied a towel around his waist as he looked for his favorite red hair tie. He didn't want his hair getting in the way of his morning exercises. He was sure that his Sensei would yell at him, for not having done the stretching exercises as he'd asked. He brushed his damaged auburn hair, and tied it into what his cousin called a 'man bun'. Afterward, he got dressed and headed out after his morning oatmeal with berries. Before arriving at the studio, he had picked up a smoothie for his Sensei. He made sure to pick something with strawberries, as he knew he'd love it for the color.

On mornings Jake worked out, he would jog from his house to the dance studio. The studio was located in a run-down neighborhood, the building even showed brown markings at the bottom, and the entrance hall always smelled funky for some reason. Today he was wearing a pink Hawaiian shirt, featuring white hibiscus flowers, paired with pastel blue shorts. His hair featured the aforementioned man-bun, which was tied with a short crimson ribbon. His gym bag had been casually slung over his shoulder, while he held the smoothie in the other hand. He had finished his own on the way there. The building felt oddly empty this morning, as his footsteps gave off an eerie echo. The studio was located on the third door from the right, but the lights hadn't been turned on yet. Jake peeked into the black void behind the door, he never really liked dark spaces. Even as a child, he hated being locked in the bathroom by his older sister. The light switch was located on the outside, so if Brigitte really wanted to scare him, she could always block the door and turn out the light at the same time. 'Sensei?' Jake asked, his voice a little shaky. 'Sensei are you in there?' he tried, once again. When no reply came, he carefully shuffled his way in, using his phone as a flashlight. A sense of relief came over him, as soon as the lights were turned on. The room felt cold and empty, without his Sensei there to make it feel like a place of importance. Unwillingly, he shivered, the studio was a lot colder this early in the day. He dumped his worn-down bag on the benches on the opposite side of the room. For now, he decided that some warm-up sun salutations would do him good. It wouldn't make up for the stretching he'd missed, but it was a start.

At 5 A.M. his teacher walked in. Jake didn't notice, as he was still amidst his sun salutations. Eventually, he noticed his Sensei and politely and modestly said hello, in a wheezy voice. This teacher was unlike any dance teacher he'd had before. He was tall, muscular and at times, a little intimidating as well. Until last year, his teacher had been a professional ballet dancer, and Jake was in luck for living so close to his dance studio. 'Good morning Jake. You're here early today.', his Sensei said, appreciating the effort he had put in already. Jake looked up and realized that his face was only inches away from his teacher. For a few seconds, their eyes met, and he felt a chill run through his body. 'Good morning Sensei' Jake mumbled shyly. 'I see you've started already, do you mind if I join you for a set or two? My back has been feeling a little tight lately.' his teacher said. 'O-of course not' Jake replied, realizing he had done four sets already. Sensei cracked his neck, and placed his hands behind his back, stretching them as well. The only thing that his student truly noticed, were the bulging neck muscles of the man in front of him. 'So what do you want us to focus on today, Jake?' his Sensei asked, his voice sounding fruity as usual. In an instant, the studio felt a lot warmer, and Jake had to avert his eyes for a few seconds.

Meanwhile, it had started raining outside, characterized by the small pitter-patter sounds that came from the roof. Jake quickly swallowed and tried to control the fast-paced beating of his own heart. Some days, he had trouble controlling himself, his movements and his actions. On those days, he truly thought about crossing the line between their carefully crafted student-teacher relationship. He always wondered though, after he had given into his primal desires, would he be allowed to come back here? Would this god-like creature be forgiving? Would he be accepting? Would his Sensei know that he meant it? That it wasn't merely an experiment?  
'I'd like to work on the flexibility of my legs today, Sensei' Jake said, testing the waters. He felt dirty. He knew that it would take his Sensei a good minute, to realize that he hadn't been working out since their last session. As filthy as this made him feel, he was waiting for punishment. Helpful as always, his Sensei asked the question he had been dreading. 'Have you been doing the stretches like I asked, Jake?' If Jake was being honest, he had been focussing on bulking up his arms at the gym. He knew he couldn't compare to his Sensei in any way. But he didn't want his stick arms to be the complex he couldn't get over. During his childhood, he had been cycling a lot, which yielded him a nice pair of muscular legs at this age. He didn't have to do much to maintain those, but his arms were giving him anxiety since they looked out of tune with the rest of his body. 'I have been stretching Sensei' Jake decided. 'Good. Show me.' Sensei replied.

'You know you're going about this all wrong, right?' Sensei said, carefully closing in on the distance between them. 'Not intentionally' he retorted. 'That's not what I said, I was just saying that by this time, you should be able to stretch like this, here, give me your leg'. Without any effort, Sensei slid in front of him. Carefully, he took Jake's leg, inching it towards his shoulder. 'I meant that you should be able to stretch like this after all of the training you've had, that's all.' With that, he raised his eyebrow, 'I thought you were in it to win it or was I wrong?' Jake felt his body temperature rise, as he tried to think of something else. 'I want to win, that's really all I want.' 'Good'. This went on for a few more minutes until Sensei decided he was done playing for the day. 'I've got this competition coming up, so I'm heading over to that corner.'

Jake glanced at his watch, he was running late for his job at the café. 'I'm calling it a day, thank you for your support, Coach!' and with that, he was off to the showers. After 20 minutes, Sensei decided to take a look. Jake was always in a rush, and therefore he wouldn't be in the shower for over ten minutes. His schedule did not allow for those indulgences. Sensei walked in as the water was still running. He did not expect Jake's wrists to expel a crimson substance, nor was he expecting the handcuffs. The appliance had been attached to the shower knobs, and somehow, the killer had not left any trace. There were no watery footprints leading anywhere, this was a really weird way of leaving someone for dead. Why wait until they were in the shower? Why wait at all? Why Jake?

Subconsciously, Sensei had his hands balled into fists, it took him a while to realize that he was screaming while the tears kept streaming down his face. He liked Jake, he had been one of his most dedicated students. Yes, there had been something there, but there was no way he was going to try anything with one of his students. The best course of action, for now, would be to contact Victor, he would know what to do.

Dazai Osamu had been carefully escorted to the hotel bar, where he had been served his favorite Tsugaru noodles. Dazai anxiously smelled the air, as he waited for his mouth-watering post-lunch snack. He had no idea what the chef would interpret the dish as, and if it would even remotely taste the same. His worries quickly subsided, as he noticed the bowl and the bamboo shoots which were peeking out of the water. As soon as the noodles touched his lips, he was instantly transported home. The dish tasted the same, from the thin strips of nori down to the narutomaki on top. Osamu sighed and felt a wave of relief come over him. For a moment, he forgot that he was there for the investigation of an 187, and instead, he relaxed; thinking of Kunikida and the work they did together.

Somewhere in the outskirts of London, Sebastian Michaelis was in charge of a tea party, hosted by his master, Ciel Phantomhive. For the occasion, Ciel had invited Lady Elizabeth, his fiancee. Elizabeth was a small ray of light, in the overly dark history of his young master. From a distance, Ciel seemed like any other normal 14-year old, as he toyed with his teacup, not interested in anything Lady Elizabeth had to say. The party was hosted in the gazebo, surrounded by a path of white and red roses. Lady Elizabeth didn't seem to mind, as she spent a lot of her time giving orders to his servants. Inwardly, Sebastian was pleased. When the time would come, he would make sure that Ciel had experienced at least some joy in his life. For most of the time, their prospects had been bleak, with orders coming in from Her Majesty almosts every other week. Some weeks were spent in a carriage, overlooking the English countryside. After a few days, Ciel would beg Sebastian to play demonic chess, and since he was his master, Sebastian was in no position to refuse. Their party came to a halt, as they received the news of Jake Zhou's passing. Victor Nikiforov had been a part of the plan to remove the Earl of Huntington from his position, and they had been close friends ever since. Jake Zhou and Victor gave an amazing dance performance to celebrate the end of the case. Viktor and Jake had known each other from the dance circuit, as Viktor needed to be flexible for his profession. For the occasion, they had flown over to Paris, since Victor had his Grand Prix there, right at the time the Count was celebrating his 20th anniversary. They had solved the case and even gone in to see Victor compete. Jake had been there as well, cheering Viktor on from the audience. Ciel needed a minute to himself, so he brusquely told Elizabeth to head on home. Luckily for the Lady, Sebastian stopped her and told her that Ciel needed her company more than he needed his. Without giving it a lot of thought, Sebastian Michaelis requested a leave of absence for 3 days, in order to find out what had happened and to find out whether Ciel was in any immediate danger, to which Ciel agreed after a little over an hour of persuasion. The real reason being, that Sebastian felt like his life with Ciel was starting to make him softer, more complacent. For his own health, he thought it might be beneficial to be surrounded by a little bit of murder and chaos since that was his natural disposition.


	5. Chapter 5

Puri Puri Prisoner had not slept well. After reporting the 187 to the Australian authorities, Sensei was forced to cancel today's class. He had been in shock, and the paramedics were forced to give him a mild tranquilizer. Due to the magnitude of his body, this translated to a drug that would be able to knock out a horse. He had been feeling empty, the image of Jake being tied to the shower knob etched into his memory. His bed did not feel comfortable, and being unable to reach Victor was a source of anxiety. All he had wanted, was to hear Victor's voice.

In the public sphere, Victor Nikiforov was an ice-skating god. His renowned reputation opened a lot of doors. Only a few people knew, that he used his travel privileges elsewhere as well. The grey-haired Russian had been sent on another assignment back when they met. Training with Jake had been his cover in London. Victor always completed his assignments with ease, and his skating never suffered. Puri Puri had assumed that Victor would receive his call and come running. Victor and Jake had been good friends. Mr. Prisoner's body felt devoid of all joy, and he couldn't imagine life going on. He didn't want to teach either. Puri Puri Prisoner was certain that walking by the shore and watching the waves would bring him new insights. He rolled around in his bed, feeling the silk sheets fall off him due to his erratic movements. He yelled out in frustration and grabbed his phone. If Victor wouldn't talk to him, he knew someone that would.

The blue sedan Osamu Dazai came in, was being prepared in one of the parking garages close to the hotel he stayed at. In ten minutes, this car would turn up at the entrance, and it had to be dressed for the occasion. Jay Riedel had been tasked with cleaning and re-filling the champagne glasses, while the driver looked for a good Mozart cd to play. Meanwhile, Sergey had just entered Dazai's room using the master key, because he refused to leave the couch. After being updated that he only had fifteen minutes until departure, he threw the newspaper he had previously received at Sergey's face. The tall blonde Russian merely sighed, anticipating his unpredictable behavior. Experience had taught him that Dazai honestly did not like taking orders. After a few mumbles and grumbles, Osamu headed towards the shower. The room smelled vaguely of sleep and whiskey, even though they had confirmed beforehand that there was no food or drink available. 'It's probably just the curtains' Sergey mumbled, as he waited on the red velvet couch. For a few minutes, he was able to soak in the view of the Neva river, and instantly he felt mildly jealous of Dazai. Victor would never set this type of room up for him or his colleagues.

Another bodyguard entered the room while Dazai wasn't present. He quietly exited, after delivering a brand new name brand camel-colored trench coat. In the bathroom, he heard Osamu gargle, the sound instantly calming him. 'Sir, your trench coat has arrived,' Sergey announced 'Where would you like me to put it?' From the bathroom, he could hear a muffled reply in the sense of 'Wherever is fine.' Before the sound of teeth being brushed, resumed. Before crashing on the couch, Dazai had left his phone in the bedroom. The device started ringing whilst he was still in the bathroom, inciting a mildly annoyed sound from Dazai. He ran out, wearing just his towel to pick up. 'I should've knoown' he moaned, right before picking up. 'Did you arrive at your family well?' Kunikida asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Dazai deliberated before answering, Victor was family to him, at least. 'Yes,' Dazai answered. 'Do you need anything?', 'No. But I suggest you hang up soon, as this is an international call.' And with that answer, Dazai disconnected the phone. 'Let's hope he doesn't do that again.' he muttered. 'Okay, we have 5 more minutes!' Sergey yelled from the living room. 'He never quits does he, little blonde that he is' Dazai thought to himself. He opened his suitcase and assembled an outfit, hoping to find a new trench coat draped over the sofa. As usual, he was not disappointed. To his surprise, he loved the camel-colored coat even more than his previous one. It was slightly darker than the one he wore in Japan, but he felt like this helped him blend in a lot better. Ten minutes later, Dazai was sipping some freshly poured champagne while listening to Mozart. He tried to calm down, but he had a hard time concealing his excitement. He was finally going to see Victor! A few minutes earlier, he had texted to tell him that he was on his way down. For the last time, Dazai checked his coat and his hands unwillingly lingered on the belt. It was so soft, it helped him to calm down a little bit. He also checked his shoes for stains he might have missed. So far, he was looking good. Kunikida probably wouldn't call anymore, knowing that international calls would cost him a fortune. He also turned off his mobile data, so chat apps wouldn't bother him either. Victor would text, and so would he. His full attention had to be dedicated to solving this case. If he solved this quickly, he'd be back in Japan in no time. He would bring the water he brought from the Kiyomizu Dera for the house visit. Today wouldn't be a good time.

Dazai and Victor had been like brothers in a lot of ways. They had their first beer together, they drove motorcycles in their time off and back in the day they hit bathhouses and parties together. They had been inseparable. But, of course, life happened.

Victor Nikiforov was having a whole different type of struggle. He took his keys and checked his hair and eyebrows in the mirror. The black turtleneck he was wearing, was just right for the occasion. The right amount of class for the location he was heading towards. He liked to wear the silver bracelet Dazai had gifted him a few years ago for his birthday. Yuri was still in the process of finding out what to give him. Victor had accidentally found the mood board he had made and hid in the hamper. He had the vague suspicion that this year Dazai would tone it down a little, with a pair of partially bleached jeans, not to outshine Yuri. As he thought about when they would meet, he closed the door and headed toward the subway station.

A few minutes later, Yuri accepted his fate and put on a movie. Halfway in, he realized that he still felt bad; and he felt like an emotional binge eating session was in order. He got up and looked for the bag of microwave popcorn he was hiding underneath their bed for an occasion like this. While he was there, he also grabbed a few cans of coke, in case he felt too tired to stay awake. Victor said he'd be back soon.

Victor exited the subway station, only to be greeted by Sergey and Jay. One of them opened the door to the blue sedan, where he was greeted by a thrilled Osamu Dazai. Sergey managed to sneak a peek at the way that Osamu's face completely lit up upon laying eyes on Victor. As they sat together, they enjoyed each other's presence in silence. The music quietly changed from Mozart to Vivaldi's Four Seasons. Dazai instantly recognized that it was winter that was being played. The music encompassed his feelings. The feeling of being close to euphoric upon seeing his friend, but also being somber that it was under these circumstances. Why did they never find the time to hang out like this whenever everything was going well? Victor seemed lost in his thoughts. He probably had a lot going on at home as well. The car ride was a short one, and luckily so. They had somewhat of a restart after they got out, in which they exchanged pleasantries.

Dazai asked about his ice skating activities, and Victor in return asked about the work he was doing in Japan. He told him a quick story about Atsushi and how he managed to 'tiger out' in the middle of a shopping street a few days prior. Victor laughed, and for a moment everything seemed alright with the world. The grey-haired Russian noticed that his friend was quite tired. The flight and the rushing probably hadn't done him any good, for which he felt sorry. He just knew that he was the only one who could help; and also the only one who was well connected enough for it to work if he didn't. At that moment, Victor decided he wouldn't be too hard on his friend tonight. Yes, someone died, but it wasn't a high alert thing. The likelihood of anyone else dying on such short notice seemed unlikely. Tonight they would catch up and talk about the case a little bit. Osamu deserved his rest as well. Knowing Sergey, he had probably shown very little sympathy for his situation. He should have sent Max. Maximillian would have mellowed Sergey quite a lot. Too bad he was currently in Egypt, and Jay had been the next best option.

Their arrival at the Marble Palace did not go unnoticed. Victor's initial plan had been to head inside, after taking a stroll in the summer garden. Today's weather did not seem to agree. There was a slight drizzle, and even though a walk was not the best option, he motioned for Dazai to sit down next to him on a bench. Like a true gentleman, he made Sergey lay down a cover so that Osamu would not damage his coat. He had to remember that the man was tired. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Dazai was having trouble being present. 'My friend, I am sorry for calling you out.' he said submissively. 'It's alright brother.' Dazai replied, not knowing what else he could say. 'I am here now. It's not your fault we are dealing with a 187. ' 'Dazai, I am so glad you're here. I've missed you and your expertise,' Victor said, hugging him from the side. For a second, it seemed like Sergey was going to pull him off Dazai, but he changed his mind. Victor felt the fatigue and tension melt off his friend. 'I'm here now. Do you have any pictures of the scene?' Dazai asked cautiously. 'Straight to business, huh?' Victor said, a smile seeping through his voice. 'You don't have to push yourself so hard my friend. I don't think that this is a high alert thing. I'd just like to know what happened.' Victor said in a soothing tone. Osamu rubbed his eye 'Your friend back home must be scared out of his mind. Unlike us, he's never dealt with anything like this.' Victor's mind flashed back to Yuri, who after his discovery, had vomited and his body trembled for over an hour. He had seemed upset, and Victor had done nothing to console him. Victor patted Dazai's back before pulling away. 'You are right. He has never dealt with death before. What I am trying to find out why it had to be that person, and who did it.' Dazai smirked 'Curious as always, my friend.' he concluded. Victor quietly took Dazai's hand, staring at it before turning his attention to some white roses. 'In a way, you're right,' Victor concluded, as he got up and sauntered over to the white roses. Unwillingly, Dazai followed, feeling the fatigue in his legs. 'Yuri is like a white rose. Innocent and unspoiled'. With that remark, he walked a little bit further, over to some pink roses. 'You and I,' Victor said, looking at Osamu with a tenderness in his eyes 'we have seen a lot, haven't we?' At that moment, the drizzle, the fatigue, and everything else melted away. 'You didn't bring me here to theorize, did you?' Dazai replied, playfully. 'All I'm trying to say is, we have seen a lot, but we still have a moral compass',

'Kind of like these pink roses,' Dazai mused. 'Let me take a weird guess, the only reason we aren't red, is because of our moral compass?' Victor quietly nodded. 'I'm just so happy to have someone around who doesn't find this weird,' he whispered. Dazai felt the same way. It felt good to be with someone who didn't flinch at the thought of someone close to them dying. It was just the nature of their work. Victor finally felt like he had his partner in crime back. Meanwhile, they had meandered over to the palace. Victor sat down at the bar in the entrance hall, seeming happy but tired. 'One small plate of gyoza for this gentleman' the grey-haired Russian said, his voice less strained. 'I'm assuming that the Tsugaru noodles weren't enough to keep you full, am I right?', 'How do you-?' Dazai said, obviously surprised. Victor merely pointed at Sergey 'Sergey told me.' Dazai smiled back and got on one of the bar stools 'Don't worry, I'll feed you some bourbon after we visit the library.' 


	6. Chapter 6

The library was unlike anything he had seen before. Back in Japan, he was used to seeing Hon-Ya or "book specialty stores". These places were generally not well-lit and smelled of old books. There were alphabetically organizes bookshelves, featuring old Japanese classics either by Murakami or Ishiguro. In those bookstores, book-nerds would get together and discuss their favorite authors and their most recent reads. There was zero space to sit down, and you would have to walk around the bookshelves to search for friends or lovers who might be in another aisle, as the bookshelf would be as high as the ceiling would allow. Sometimes you could hear a mother asking her child where they went, and then a small response would come from the 4 or 5-year-old who had wandered off to another aisle.  
The library Victor had casually led him to, after eating his late-night snack, reminded him more out of something he had seen in a Disney movie. Was it the one where the prince turned into a beast? It even featured artificial lights, a stair propped up against one of the bookshelves, instead of the rickety stool he was used to using back home.  
In front of the large open windows, a small bench had been placed. Dazai could imagine himself in this reading nook on sunny days, where the sun would come in through the windows, providing the perfect light for reading. 'So, Victor.. why are we here?' Dazai asked, after having soaked in the environment. Victor smiled upon seeing Dazai's raised eyebrow. He paused for a few seconds and crossed his legs, looking down. 'I thought that this would be a good opportunity to look at recent cases, what if this isn't the first time?' Dazai felt that in his own way, Victor was truly concerned for his partner. This only hurt a little; since his phone rang the exact moment he felt like there was someone who had come between them as brothers. Victor noticed that the ringtone kept on playing, while Dazai seemed preoccupied with this own thoughts. 'So you don't think-' Victor started. 'Osamu speaking' Dazai said, having snapped out of whatever had been going on. He had to use his business voice.

'Hello? Yes, this is the detective from Japan speaking.' After a short silence, Victor walked off to admire the gardens, allowing Dazai some space for his phone-call.  
'This is Mr. Prisoner, calling from Australia. One of my students has just been found in the shower. His wrists were attached to the shower, and I just..'  
'I'm currently in Russia on business, but could you please elaborate on the location of the shower?'  
'Yes. At the back of the dance studio, I currently own. Is there any way I could e-mail you some pictures so you can assess the situation before I call the police?'  
'I will, and I will get back to you on whether a visit from my side will be in order. In the meantime, I am sorry for your loss. And Mr. Prisoner, thank you for calling.'  
Dazai shot Victor an apologetic look. 'I'm afraid your prediction was spot-on. I'm suspecting another murder in Australia. The same MO. The killer left them tied to the shower at the back of a dance studio. The time frame seems to be a match as well. He'll be sending me some pictures for the confirmation soon'. The pictures arrived within ten minutes, but it only took them a glance to see that these cases were definitely related. Victor was adamant about staying in the library as if he was scared to go home at this point. 'I'll have some chazuke sent up to you, just head over to the unsolved/uncommon murder section. You might see something I overlooked.' This was the Victor I knew.

If Victor was really being honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was enjoying his time out of the rink. Seeing Dazai here, reminded him of his old self, and the pranks they used to pull on each other. Of course, this was all before Victor was forced into ice-skating to facilitate international travel for his manager. Yuri had become mildly obsessed with being on par with Victor, and during the times he was sweating it out in the rink, Victor liked to come here. He would sit in the reading nook with this espresso, and read up on unsolved murder mysteries. Occasionally, his gaze would wander off to the rose garden, thinking about life. After Dazai's chazuke arrived, Victor told him about his visits to the palace.  
Dazai in response was quite intrigued. Victor? Reading? This is the same guy who had trouble staying in one place back when he was 19 years old. He had trouble imagining the small tornado he remembered Victor to be, to sit down, even just for an afternoon. The concept seemed foreign to him. "I guess that while I was out solving murders, Victor changed as well," he thought to himself.  
And so they sat, side by side, well into the night. They had a table brought to them, so they could sit in the reading nook. Bourbon on one side, a book on the other. Occasionally they would break the silence to discuss any information in perceived relation to the current case. But more often than not, they were still. The only sound that echoed was the occasional turning of pages.

Meanwhile, Yuri's patience was being tested. He had played "fetch" with Makkachin until he had gotten sick of it. He had played peekaboo until he got bored. He had re-watched an entire anime and still, his thoughts would not quiet down. What if Victor had gone back to his family? What if he had gotten on a plane? What if he wasn't in the country anymore without even telling him he left?! What if he had encountered an old flame on his way back from Dazai? What if Dazai was the flame? Why did they meet alone? Was this Victor's way of excluding him? Up until recently, he couldn't imagine Victor keeping secrets from him. But now? He was wavering. He reasoned that it was probably the lack of sleep that was making him this way, but it didn't 100% convince him. What if Victor didn't like him anymore? What if he had gotten bored with him? Yuri yawned and glanced at the clock once more. Six A.M. what could possibly be so interesting for it to interfere with Victor's training schedule?  
Back at the palace, Victor and Dazai called it a 'night' at 7 A.M. not much later after Yuri decided to go to sleep. Dazai's phone buzzed inside his coat, causing him to stir in his sleep. When he decided to pick up, the phone had already quit ringing. 'Victor,' he croaked 'it's 11 A.M. now, won't he be worried?' For a second, Victor deliberated on whether he wanted to call or text. If he was being truthful, he hadn't thought about it at all. As a person, he was not good at keeping in touch, and relationships were generally not on his radar. He, however, loved mysteries. They could swallow him whole. 'To be really honest, I forgot' he said, shooting Dazai a modest but coy smile. Reluctantly, he pulled out his phone, a modern, silver item with a picture of Makkachin at the back. 'I'll just text Yuri instead, he'll probably still be asleep'. If Victor was being really honest with himself, he wasn't looking forward to what he categorized as being a 'needy rant'. After sending a short text message, and realizing the date, Victor had to swiftly say goodbye to Dazai.

Dazai, on the other hand, was eager to leave. Last night, he had found a possible lead. After thanking Victor for his food and hospitality, Dazai headed off to England, as he had a clue to who the next victim of this serial killer might be.


End file.
